


The Problem

by JauntyHako



Category: Fallout (Video Games)
Genre: Gen, People getting replaced, Settler backstories, Synths, Synths defecting from the Institute, also coursers, and teaming up with their real counterparts, only not
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-18
Updated: 2016-01-18
Packaged: 2018-05-14 20:06:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,790
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5756521
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JauntyHako/pseuds/JauntyHako
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An Institute synth sent to replace a citizen of the Commonwealth has a change of heart. Now he only has to convince the person he's meant to be of his good intention.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Problem

**Author's Note:**

> Filled for a prompt on the kinkmeme. I wasn't sure about uploading it here since fics with purely OCs typically don't get a lot of views in the first place. But then I remembered that I get antsy when I don't have all my stuff neatly organised in one pile, so here you go.

 

His name was K2-78. No, that wasn't right. His name was supposed to be Jules. But it was another man's name, the one he was meant to replace. Outfitted with artificial memories he knew the facts and corners of Jules' life but they weren't _his_.

 _He_ was an Institute synth, a servant in the employ of mankind's last hope of survival. And he'd been sent to learn and gather information about the people living on the surface. Which was where the Problem began, but not ended. K2 had started referring to it as the Problem, capitalised, because it was no longer a little problem that could be fixed with recalibration at the Institute. Foolishly he kept the problem to himself as he wandered the Commonwealth, searching for the real Jules. And now, almost a week on top it had become the Problem.

The Problem was, quite simply, that he had second thoughts about committing murder on Jules.  
His sister would be heartbroken. He had a friend named Perry who fell back on him whenever his latest romantic exploit turned out to be a bust. People relied on Jules in a way they never could on K2, no matter how much they believed him to be a real person. He didn't know how to take care of a human, or even how to show compassion. That wasn't in his programming.

The alternative, it seemed, was to die. To commit suicide and spare Jules the fate of being replaced by a doppelganger. K2 had grown fond of the man, even though they never met, and had little desire to see him perish. But he valued his own life almost as much as a human would, being programmed to emulate one. The thought of ending his life-sustaining processes made him feel queasy and anxious.

And so, knowing the Coursers would be hot on his tail as soon as they found out, K2 took a third option.

 

Jules had traveled with a group of settlers in hopes of finding a home to call their own. Accidentally making camp within a Mirelurk nesting ground reduced the group to first three and then one as Jules' companions were beaten by infection and blood loss. As far as K2 could see Jules' wounds were also infected and wouldn't need long to finish him off. He found him limping along a street, gun wavering in his hand as he jumped at every little sound. Once he almost blasted K2's head off when he stepped on a tin can and sent it flying, ducking barely in time to avoid detection and an unfortunate demise.

Eventually he stopped walking, a bad sign if K2 ever saw one, resting instead in a relatively safe space, devoid of super mutants or raiders. He stretched out his leg with a groan, inspecting it with a worried frown. K2 squatted behind a trash can, peering through a hole in the wall at the man looking like his mirror image. His heart beat so fast he couldn't feel individual pulses anymore. His sweaty hands gripped the stimpak tighter as he prepared himself to do what could very well be the last thing he ever did.

Then he stepped forward and into Jules' line of sight.

“Um … hello.”

 

It was the first time he ever had direct eye contact with a human before who wasn't from the Institute. It was captivating, exhilarating, daunting. It also lasted all of two seconds when Jules grabbed his revolver and shot at him. K2 screamed and ducked down, covering his head with his hands as each shot thundered over his head.

“Don't shoot! Please!”

Jules only stopped when the magazine clicked empty. He cursed, scrambled for his pack but K2 was faster. He dove for it and crawled away, clutching the pack and the ammo it contained to his chest.

“Please! I don't want to fight!”

“You'll never get me alive, synth!” Jules said, would have shouted but for his general weakness. He'd lost a lot of blood.  
“No fighting, please. I don't want anyone to die. I just want to talk.”

He waved the stimpak, ducked his head between his shoulders when Jules pointed his weapon at his hand, neither remembering that it was empty.

“Slide it over.” Jules commanded and K2 obliged, pushing the stimpak over the uneven ground. Jules grabbed it and injected himself one-handed, the other armed one still trained on K2. He sighed in blissful relief as tissue knitted itself together and blood was replenished almost instantenously. Resting his head against the wall he peeked at K2 from under his lashes. He still crouched on the ground, clutching the pack and eyes darting around like those of a frightened animal.

“Didn't know the Institute was in the business of saving lives.” Jules said wrily. He put the weapon aside but kept it within reach.

K2 wanted to protest, to insist that the Institute would one day save the entire Commonwealth. He reconsidered. The Institute existed for over two centuries and had not once shared its wealth of technology for the benefit of the citizens above. Synths like K2 were the only thing to come out of their halls and he was not a benign intervention.

“I'm not with the Institute anymore.” he said therefore, wondering not for the first time just what he'd gotten himself into by choosing to deal with his Problem instead of ignoring it and carrying out his orders.

“How come?” Jules asked.

K2 told him his story, what little there was to tell. Of seeing the sun for the first time and waves crashing against the shore. Of seeing people drink to their health in the distance and billboard ads still colourful even after all this time. Of receiving memories belonging to a human and growing fond of a life he was supposed to take. There he stopped, staring at his hands and the patches of thick cotton where someone had fixed the pack over and over again.

“I'm malfunctioning.” he confessed softly. “I am reluctant to follow my orders. I just … I saw a cake yesterday.”

Jules eyebrows rose until they disappeared in his frazzled hairline. His hair was even more unruly than K2's was, who'd taken steps to keep it as neat as he could.

“A cake?” he echoed, with a hint of wariness, as if he suspected K2 blowing a fuse and snapping any second now.

“In one of the machines. Port-a-diners I believe they are called. I've never eaten cake before. I'd like to try it some time … but not if it means I have to take your life. I don't want that.”

“You, uh, want your own life?” Jules asked. K2 nodded. “Oh. Okay. Huh. I mean, I guess we can figure something out.”

K2 looked up, an uncertain smile spreading over his face.

“Really?”

“Yeah. Hey, how about we tell people we're twins? I guess I'll have to tell my little sis the truth, but others will buy it. And it's not like I have neighbors that could nose around in our business.”

Twins. In theory all Institute synths were siblings, by virtue of having the same manufacturer. But he found the thought of having a real brother exciting.

“My, um, chip has received a recruitment beacon's message that way.” he said, pointing north. Jules followed with his eyes as if he could see the radio waves. “They said 'Settlers welcome'. Maybe we could go there?”

Jules proclaimed that to be the best news he'd heard in a while and, with a little assistance from K2, got to his feet. Together they set off towards the new settlement, sharing rations from Jules' pack and practicing the story they would tell others.

 

Living in a settlement turned out to be everything K2 never knew he wanted in life. From the get-go the 'brothers' were welcomed into the community, given assignments and beds and a place at the big table where everyone took their meals. Jules used to be a farm boy and thus K2 had the same experiences. They worked the mutfruit trees which could be notoriously testy about their environment and had a tendency to drop their fruit long before their ripeness. Keeping them happy was a challenge but K2 enjoyed it greatly. In the first few days he kept to himself at Jules' suggestion, quickly developing a reputation for being polite, but shy. Folks didn't ask many questions but made sure to include him in all their activities. It was heaven on earth and with the thrill of all these new experiences K2 completely forgot about the coursers.

 

They came early in the morning, the perimeter guard spotted them from far away. K2 was certain his survival was only thanks to the guard's watchfulness. Within seconds they set off a beacon to alert the Minutemen who protected this settlement. They only needed to hold them off until then.

“What are those doing here?” Betty shouted down from her watchtower, sniper rifle leveled at the coursers who must have known their approach was noticed as they didn't even attempt to hide anymore.

“Who knows! Heard those synth-bastards strip whole towns for parts. Don't let them get in, the Minutemen will be here soon!” Grant shouted back, quickly powering up the spare turrets they had in case things went seriously wrong. They had to disconnect their buildings from the generators to give them enough juice. K2 wanted to help, had already picked up a rifle from the shed when Jules pulled him inside one of the sheds.

“They after you?” he asked in hushed tones as outside the settlers prepared for battle. K2 nodded, anguished. The coursers would show no remorse to those harbouring rogue synths. He never meant for anyone to get hurt.

“Okay.” Jules said, dragging his hand through his hair. “Okay.” he said again. The shed barely offered enough space for the both of them, much less for a man becoming antsy when danger threatened. K2 stood defeated, shoulders slumped. The sensible thing to do would be to hand him over to the Coursers. The settlers didn't know he was a synth. He should go out and tell them, give them a chance to avoid death. He told Jules as much and yelped when Jules decked him over the head.

“Don't be stupid. No one's gonna sell you out to those … people.” he said. “We'll just … we'll just pull our weight, defend the settlement. The Minutemen will show up. I heard their General defeated a courser once and tamed another. They gotta have some tricks up their sleeve.”

Their plan had little chance of success but K2 saw no other option but to follow Jules' lead. They went outside and took up position on the perimeter. Betty greeted them with a grunt, not letting the coursers out of her sights. In her head, K2 knew, she calculated. The speed of wind, the air resistance, the distance between her and her target. She once told him that most snipers needed to make their calculations on paper and often carried little notebooks around with them for that purpose. She never needed paper. The numbers came together in her head all by themselves, she said. She only needed to give them room.

That was what she did now, as K2 watched the coursers come closer. There were two of them, clad in their black uniforms and faces devoid of expression. Their training was strict and brutal and produced soldiers that exhibited the same traits. There was no mercy to be had from a courser, nor reprieve. If those two died, more would follow. He watched Jules from the corner of his eyes, heard the rattling of turrets as they searched idly for a target. The coursers weren't yet in range.

He remembered the mercy Jules had shown him, allowing him to tag along when he could have just as easily left him to his own devices. Thought about the mutfruit trees. Loud noises could make them wilt. They wouldn't survive a fire fight. Again K2 had a Problem, but this time he knew exactly what to do about it.

“Hey! Where are you going?” Jules hissed as K2 got up, scrambled away as Jules tried to grab him. The hem of his trousers tore, settlers shouted for him to get back in position, some worried, some angry at his apparent desertion. K2 raced down to the shed again and gathered all the grenades he could, stuffing them all in the pockets of his coat. He ran back outside, climbed over the gates, cast one look back to Jules. The man mouthed something that looked like 'please'. He knew what K2 was about to do. He averted his eyes and ran, the coursers now close enough to be in shouting range.

“It's me you want!” he screamed. “Leave these people alone.”

They looked at each other, expecting more resistance from a synth like him. They didn't know he had his thumb hooked in the ring of a grenade, didn't know he was shaking from the load he carried rather than fear of repurposing. They grabbed him by the arms, to his left and right. It was now or never.

The sound was loud enough to burst eardrums. The world turned white as all senses fought against the onslaught of noise that almost had a physical presence. The settlers were shaken, people screamed.

The coursers dropped dead to the ground and K2 was left standing between them, his shaking hand still around the grenade. Two holes protruded out of the coursers heads. One was shot from behind, the other with the entry wound in his forehead. He turned around shakily, saw Betty waving at him. He turned back again. A blue flag rose on the horizon. The Minutemen had arrived in the nick of time.

 

“This should do the trick.” The Minuteman medic said and patted K2 on the shoulder as a sign he could get up. K2 did, shakily, hesitantly bringing his fingers to the small incision in the back of his head.

“The coursers won't be able to find me?” he asked.

“They'll think you're dead. With any luck they'll continue to think that for a long time.”

K2 had his share of good news in the past but that might have been the best he ever heard.

Jules kept him upright, looked him over with a worried expression. He'd been the first with K2 after his failed attempt at martyrdom, chastising him for playing the hero and then hugging him fiercely. Ever since then he hadn't left K2's side. He told their story, their true story, to the settlers and the Minutemen. How K2 was sent to replace him and instead became a brother to him. Some of the settlers expressed their disappointment at their dishonesty. Curiously none of them thought less of K2.

“The way I see it, you didn't steal nobody's life.” Betty said when she came to visit him at his sickbed. “And you kinda saved our butts back there. Gave me and the Minuteman lady a clean shot.”

K2 mumbled something about that being the least he could do, but Betty told him in no small words that he had done his part to protect their settlement and was alright in her book. Now the only thing left to do was check on his trees.

Under Jules' watch he went outside, still a bit shaky on his legs from the anesthetic the medic had given him while he removed the chip that connected him to the Institute.

At first glance it became clear that at least two mutfruit trees had shed both fruit and leaves in protest at the noise pollution. But the four others still stood proudly, having survived sniper fire with relatively little harm.

He talked to the trees in soft tones, assured them that the trouble was over and petted the two who hadn't gotten away with all their faculties intact. He'd nurse them back in time.

To celebrate their victory the settlers threw together a big dinner for themselves and the Minutemen soldiers. There was laughter all around, people insisting on putting K2 in their midst. It soon became too much. Jules saw the way he shrunk back from attention and made up some excuse to get him alone. They climbed up to the watch tower and sat on the edge, surrounded by depowered turrets while they ate the rest of their meal. The sun set in a blaze of fire, tinting the entire world in shades of orange and red.

“You know, I'm really glad I didn't shoot you back when we first met.” Jules said amiably. K2 smiled to himself.

“Yeah.” he said. “Me too.”

 


End file.
